Perchance to Dream
by Sweet Lunacy
Summary: Probie Jenny has a rather inappropriate dream about her boss, and goes to a bar to forget. Unfortunately for her, he's the only one she trusts to give her a ride home. Back-in-the-day Jibbs.


**A/N: Yes, another back-in-the-day Jibbs story. Do I ever write anything in this fandom that isn't Jibbs, though? In which we encounter a very inebriated young probie Jenny before that stakeout in Marseilles ever happened.**

* * *

_The squad room was empty, save for them. Decker and Burley had gone home for the night, and while there wasn't really any reason for her to stay, Jenny didn't want to leave. She loved the quiet moments that she spent with her boss, and she glanced up at him thoughtfully. His eyes were moving back and forth as he read a report, and a slight frown creased his face. As if he could feel her gaze, he raised his eyes to hers and she quickly looked away, _

_ "Something wrong, Shepard?"_

_ She shook her head and licked suddenly dry lips._

_ "No."_

_ "Why are you still here? Go home, Shepard."_

_ The blue of his shirt perfectly accented the blue of his eyes and she felt suddenly warm. He stood and crossed the room, stopping in front of her desk. She looked up at him and frowned._

_ "It's late."_

_ She nodded. _

_ "I know."_

_ "Why are you still here?" he asked again._

_ She couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips and before she could second guess herself, she leaned over her desk and pressed her lips to his. He closed his eyes and she pulled him closer. With one sweep of his hand, the files on her desk hit the floor, and he reached for her. Jenny smiled against his lips and he lifted her onto the desk. She was pushed back until her body was pressed firmly against his-_

Jenny's eyes flew open and she ran a shaking hand through her slightly damp hair. She lightly touched her lips, feeling the ghost of his non-existent kiss. What the hell was she thinking? He was her boss. This was highly inappropriate. Sighing, she drug herself out of bed and began getting dressed for work. All she had to do was make it through the day without losing her mind. Easy.

* * *

By the time Gibbs made it back into the squad room that evening, Jenny had buried herself in paperwork. She was hoping that it would provide a distraction, but so far, it was useless. Having a case would have been best, but with nothing to do, her mind was filled with thoughts that were more than a little inappropriate.

"Hey, Red. Want a slice?"

She didn't answer and Burley tried again.

"Shepard!"

She jumped and raised her eyes.

"What?"

"Pizza. Want any?"

Her head shook and she returned to her tedious files. Gibbs frowned, watching her closely. She'd been acting strange all day and Burley shrugged.

"Boss? You want any?"

"Sure."

He reached for it, and at the movement, Jenny glanced up. His shirt was blue, and she swore internally. She placed her head in her hands and sighed.

"Something wrong?"

"Probably wishing she had a date."

"Decker! Burley! Leave Shepard alone. Unlike you two, she's actually working."

She smirked a bit at the comment and Decker frowned.

"We don't have anything to work on."

"Then go home," came the short reply.

They both frowned and Burley looked at Gibbs seriously.

"Really, boss?"

Gibbs thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah. It's Friday night, it's late, go. Enjoy your weekend."

Bolting from their chairs, Burley and Decker left Jenny staring open-mouthed as they went by in a blur of colour.

"Shepard."

She turned, finding herself face-to-face with the very object of her distraction.

"Sir?"

"Call it a night. Nothing more to do here. Enjoy your weekend."

"I should finish this report, sir."

He waved her excuse away, flashing her a smile that nearly made her forget how to breathe.

"Don't worry about it. It can wait."

She looked up at him and could feel the blush creeping into her skin. He frowned and reached out to touch her forehead.

"Feeling okay, Shepard?"

She knew there was no way in hell that he would have done that with any agent other than herself and now she was more confused than ever. He couldn't tell, could he? She'd prided herself on keeping her emotions in check.

"Just a little tired," she answered quietly.

He nodded.

"Go home. Get some sleep."

The blue of his shirt, combined with his close proximity, was making her head spin. She could smell sawdust mixed with coffee, and she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Right. Good night, Gibbs."

"Night, Shepard."

* * *

Jenny shuddered as she tossed back another shot at the bar and offered the bartender a smile. He poured another and as the rum coursed through her veins, she found her thoughts wandering. Eventually, they landed on _him_ again, and she frowned. She was supposed to be erasing him from her mind with liquor, not recalling him. His smile as he'd said good night had made her heart skip a beat, just as his hand on her forehead had stopped her breath.

The blue of his eyes had been intensified by his shirt, and all she'd been able to think about was the dream she'd had. She could just imagine what his hands would feel like roaming over her skin, what he would taste like, and she stood up. She needed to splash water on her face in the worst way. Hopefully the cold would snap her out of it.

She stumbled as her heel hit the hard wood floor of the bar, and the bartender frowned.

"You okay, ma'am?"

She focused on breathing properly, trying not to vomit. She hadn't realised that she'd had quite so much to drink.

"Ma'am?"

Nodding once, she looked back at the young man behind the bar.

"I'm fine. Heel slipped."

One look at her bright eyes was all it took. He held out his hand seriously.

"Ma'am, I have to ask you for your keys. I can't let you drive out of here."

Jenny pulled them out of the pocket of her jeans and tossed them to him.

"Wasn't leaving, but here."

He pocketed them and watched her make her way shakily into the restroom. Jenny caught sight of her face in the mirror and laughed at how ridiculous this entire situation ad become.

"Get it together, Shepard," she murmured to herself.

The cold water was welcome on her slightly flushed face and when she finally slid back onto her seat at the bar, she flashed the bartender a dazzling smile.

"Shot of rum, please."

He sighed.

"Yes, ma'am. After this, I have to cut you off. Can't risk you getting hurt."

She nodded, laughing low in her throat.

"Wouldn't want to be a liability."

As she tossed back the shot, the complete brunt of alcohol she had consumed hit her like a train. Her vision swam and she placed her head down on the table with a slight whimper. She let out a shaky breath and the bartender looked at her, concerned.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly, very careful not to move too fast, and he touched her arm lightly.

"Is there someone I can call for you?"

Jenny struggled to recall anyone she could have pick her up and frowned. Decker and Burley were absolutely out of the question. They would never let her live this down. Her mind flickered to Gibbs and she hesitated. As she considered her situation, the bartender set a glass of water in front of her and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Actually, yes," she answered finally.

She gave him the number that took an excruciatingly long time for her to remember belonging to Gibbs, and when he left to call, she rested her head on her arms.

* * *

Gibbs frowned as his phone rang and he answered it more than a little annoyed. Whoever was calling him, it had better be important.

"Gibbs."

"Sir, I'm sorry to be calling you so late, but are you familiar with a Jennifer Shepard?"

"Why? Something happen to her?"

"In a way. Sir, I'm the bartender at Quarry House Tavern. I think you might want to come down here. Your friend needs a ride."

Gibbs sighed and ran a hand over his face. Damn it, Shepard. Not that he hadn't picked up Burley from a bar before, but this was different. It just was. This wasn't Burley or Decker, or even Pacci that he would be dealing with...it was _Shepard_.

"Address?"

The young man gave it to him and he nodded shortly.

"Be there in ten."

He hung up and sighed again. He pulled his shoes on and grabbed his keys, inwardly cursing the woman he'd come to accept that he was attracted to. Damn her.

* * *

When he walked in the bar, at first he didn't see her. The bar was hazy with smoke, not what he expected Shepard's scene to look like, and it was very crowded. He found her talking easily with the bartender and when he said her name, she didn't look around.

"Shepard," he repeated louder.

She turned and frowned when she saw him.

"Hi, boss."

"Enjoying your night?" he questioned, a hint of warning in his voice.

She nodded slowly, unsure if this was a trap.

"What are you doing here?"

The words fell from her lips before she could stop herself. He jerked a thumb at the bartender.

"Got a call to come pick you up. Got her keys?" he asked.

The young man handed them over and she frowned.

"I didn't call."

"No, but you gave me his number," the young man reminded her.

Her frowned only increased.

"Did I?"

"Obviously," Gibbs answered, taking her by the arm to support her.

She looked up at him, and he could see just by looking at her that she had consumed copious amounts of alcohol. She was unsteady on her feet and he didn't release his hold on her arm.

"Come on, Shepard."

She stumbled and he glanced down. He rolled his eyes at the sight of her high heels and frowned.

"Take off your goddamned heels before you break your neck."

She clumsily bent down to the task and he was thankful that she was too inebriated to notice the concern in his voice. When she straightened up, Gibbs turned to the bartender.

"Thanks for taking her keys."

"Anytime. Have a safe drive, sir."

He nodded once in reply and led Jenny to the door. She was wearing jeans, something he'd never seen her do before, and he allowed himself a moment to appreciate just how form-fitting they were. He'd never noticed how much smaller she was without those ridiculously high heels and he had to admit that he felt extremely protective of her. This was certainly shaping up to be an interesting night.

* * *

She was leaning against his truck and one glance told him all he needed to know. He held her hair back as she was violently sick on the pavement and he frowned. He couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be nothing solid on the ground and when she straightened, he offered her a bottle of water.

"How much did you drink, Shepard?"

She spat out the water after rinsing her mouth out and tried to think.

"I lost count after twelve rum shots."

"Have you eaten today?"

She shook her head silently and he glared down at her.

"Twelve shots of rum on an empty stomach? Are you trying to die from alcohol poisoning, Jen? Do you know how stupid that is?"

She winced at his raised voice and he suddenly felt like a jerk.

"Hell, Jen...I didn't mean that _you're_ stupid. You made a mistake. It happens."

She didn't reprimand him for using the nickname she claimed to hate as she usually did, and it was only when she turned away that he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Shepard?"

"Can we please leave?" she asked quietly.

He nodded and helped her into the truck, taking him time walking around to the other side. When he climbed up next to her, he took a moment to examine her. He'd never really noticed how long her hair was when it wasn't in a ponytail and her skin was paler than New York snow. She felt his eyes on her and fixed him with a look that he'd never seen before.

"Are you through staring at me?"

He nodded, slightly embarrassed at having been caught. He couldn't help it that she was attractive. He put the truck in gear and made his way out onto the dark road. She gave him her address and when he pulled up to the fancy house, he whistled.

"Nice place."

"It was my father's," she said quietly, "It was all he left me."

He didn't answer her but as she unhooked her seat belt, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Shepard."

She looked at him, her expression guarded.

"You okay?"

She nodded, but there was something in her eyes that made him doubt her. He looked at her, his blue eyes taking in every detail, and he smirked suddenly.

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't interrupt your game did I? With the bartender?"

"Excuse me?"

"Looked like a sure thing," he shrugged.

She frowned for a moment, but when she finally realised what he meant, she burst into laughter.

"You thought I was _hitting on _the bartender?" she laughed, her voice breathless.

He shrugged again and she shook with laughter.

"Definitely not my type," she said softly.

She looked over at him and as soon as their eyes met, she looked away. The dream she'd had that morning came rushing back to her and she fought the urge to tell him. He could sense that she was hiding something from him and he tried to catch her eyes with his own.

"You have a type?"

She was silent and he laughed.

"It's Burley, isn't it?"

"You couldn't be more wrong, Gibbs," she answered, disgusted at the thought.

She made to leave the truck and he shook his head.

"Wait."

He got out and walked around to her side of the car and helped her down, careful of where he touched her. Her jeans hugged her body seductively and it was beginning to get to him. She collected her shoes and when she held out her hand, he took it in his own. He pointedly ignored that her hand seemed to be made to fit in his and she smiled.

"Thanks for the ride, boss. Have a good weekend."

He nodded.

"No problem, but don't make a habit of it."

"Wouldn't dream of it. No one would get any work done."

He frowned as she walked up the steps to her porch, placing the key in the lock.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked.

"If I made a habit of wearing these jeans, everyone would be distracted. Don't think I didn't notice you checking me out."

"Not what I meant," he called defensively.

She laughed and her next words surprised him.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she answered, as if it were obvious, "I need to pick up my car in the morning."

He laughed, waiting until she shut the door before climbing back into his truck. She definitely wasn't what he'd expected when Director Morrow had told him that he was assigning him a new team member. She was so much more. He was still laughing when he pulled into his own driveway fifteen minutes later.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! If I'd had my way, Jenny would still be alive and happy with Gibbs, but I respect Lauren's decision to want to move on/spend time with her family. I honestly haven't watched the show since she left. Okay, rant over.**


End file.
